


Cui prodest?

by SrebrnaFH



Series: Double Pride Double Trouble - series [6]
Category: Das doppelte Lottchen | Lottie and Lisa - Erich Kästner, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: COVID-19, Family, Interview, Isolation, Pandemic - Freeform, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrebrnaFH/pseuds/SrebrnaFH
Summary: William gets tired of people ambushing him under the cover of interviews. Alex grows. Adele gets an internship.Another DPDT followup story :) Read the main one first.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, OC - Mina Bennet & OC - Adele Bennet, OC - Rose Darcy & OC - Adele Bennet
Series: Double Pride Double Trouble - series [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1273559
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Cui prodest?

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been lovingly beta'ed by a supportive reader from meryton.com forum. Thank you so much, dear :)

"Wiliam Darcy, owner of the Pemberley estate and— how much of Derbyshire?"

"The properties owned by the estate are listed in the county registry," William smiled tightly. "It's enough to warrant a separate office to manage them, if that gives you a clearer picture."

"Indeed, indeed—" the journalist smiled, falsely. "And how are you doing these days, Mr Darcy?"

"Better than most, I suppose. It's not a very comfortable situation for anyone, but I am fortunate enough to have a certain kind of safety buffer. On the other hand, that buffer has to be enough to provide for all the employees and properties I manage, so it's quite stretched."

"And what are wealthy landowners doing for their employees these days?"

He shrugged minutely.

"Can't claim what the others do - not sure who would be a good point of reference - but both at the estate and in Darcy Buildings - and with our subcontractors - we're trying to manage the best we can to retain the level of employment and have actual jobs to do for everyone. We don't do makework, unless it's the last resort, and even then, well, let it be a useful kind of makework. If it isn't an oxymoron."

"So you organised work for your staff? Duties they could perform even during these last months of isolation?"

"We created a very precise schedule for everyone, and we still keep these rules active. Those who can work from home, do so. We've purchased a number of internet access contracts and devices for the ones who need a dedicated line at home - not to interfere with their kids' remote learning and their spouses' work. Ones that need to be at the office are divided into strictly separated shifts. The ground crews, road builders etc are also divided into specific units that don't mix and mingle, to avoid—"

"But that's stricter than what the government suggests!"

"That's what companies all around the globe are doing for the safety of their employees and continuity of business. I can't be less careful of my company than I am of my own family, and we are all staying isolated, even now, despite the general loosening of the rules."

"Yes, indeed. That's what I understood when you insisted on having this meeting by Zoom."

"The safety of my children and my wife is paramount to me. With my youngest not yet two, I simply can't afford the risk, however minute."

"You have a boy who is two and teenaged twins, if I remember correctly?"

"And that's about everything I will say about them."

"Well, so I'm not going to ask you about inheritance or anything like this - since that _would_ be going into details about your children, but I _will_ ask, do they work for you over the summer? Since they are staying home, are they giving a good example and —"

"This is their summer vacation after a rather depressing school term. They will do what they wish - staying at home, as they should."

"Is it more of a 'lord of the manor' thing or are you cautious about the loosening of the isolation rules? The Prime Minister had declared yesterday that people could go for vacation and, in general, travel, if they do it reasonably. You don't agree?"

"I'm not a microbiologist or epidemiologist, but then neither is the Prime Minister. And, at the same time, while among my and my wife's entire and quite substantial family there had been no cases of coronavirus, the Prime Minister himself has gone through the infection. I'm not saying it means anything specific, since the sample is so small, but I'd rather continue as we are and not end up getting ill."

"I see. Your own little kingdom then? Dukedom? Imposing your own rules?"

"Simply being a concerned parent. And it's not like I tie them to the radiator or lock the door. We are all moving freely around the estate, as much as is needed for everyday functioning and maintenance. I meet with the crews, keeping the required distance, my wife has her job that she performs remotely. We disinfect, wear masks, quarantine our shopping for four hours etc., etc. Just as anyone should, even if not everyone does."

"You seem quite passionate about it, for a non-epidemiologist."

"I am quite passionate about it since I am a fan of _not_ dying. Most people should, in my opinion. It is rather beneficial for everyone."

There was a longer beat of silence.

"You have listed quite an impressive set of safety precautions that you are applying, but what about when someone is anyway hit by the virus and can't work?"

"All our employees are on a standard work contract, unless they specifically -- or due to character of their work -- requested a different form, which is mostly business-to-business and has its own rules, case by case. We do not use 'zero-hours' contracts or other, exploitative forms of employment. All of the work contracts had been adjusted to include a 100% sick leave pay in March and that will last until the end of December at least. If someone has to stay at home because of quarantine, they can send a copy of the decision to the HR and they will get 90% of their standard pay. The same if they are the only adult available in their family to care for someone with coronavirus."

"And what about building sites? Aren't there more infections there?"

"No, we have done extensive research and, if people are wearing face coverings and avoid crowded quarters, the chance of infection is much reduced, especially in case of outdoor teams. For the indoor workers we impose even stricter rules. All the shared equipment is cleaned four times a day, the crews are strictly separated, never meeting between shifts, then there is compulsory disinfection of hands when coming on the site, masks and protective shields for workers that hadn't been using them until now..."

"So you kept all your people working?"

"More or less, yes. Crews that had their jobs cancelled because of owners' decisions had been reassigned to work that I pay for from my emergency budget, and several had been given council contracts I negotiated for. A lot of road work and public building renovation is being initialised to alleviate the problem of the drop in employment. The crews working on these tasks are provided by my company and several others in the region."

"Did you have to let anyone go?"

William sighed unhappily. He knew that this question was coming.

"Several persons expressed their reluctance towards the safety measures, and continued to resist them even though the rules were added to the office regulations. In some cases the crewmates of people breaking the rules alerted me, since they felt unsafe. Long story short, each case was given ample warning and had a chance to change their stance. They didn't, so their contracts were terminated, all according to the law. I'm not happy about it, but it had to be done."

"I had people complain about you that what you did was infringing on their religious freedoms."

William suppressed the need to facepalm.

"Not sure which religion forbids you to not be an annoying—person—and forces you to run around with your face uncovered, potentially infecting everyone else. Yes, there were a few that tried that route, but once we asked for the exact passage, rule or explanation from their priest, they usually dropped the case or put on the mask. If they didn't, well, we had to send them home."

"That's harsh."

"They could have put their masks on and followed the rules. It's not like we were firing people for taking a mask off to get a few breaths, or for touching their face by accident. They simply didn't bring their own and declined using the ones that each team leader carried as spares. I even have a few of these declarations in writing. At this point, it became a disciplinary problem, endangering others in the workspace, which cannot be allowed in a construction company."

The man grimaced, having his line of questioning killed so effectively.

"You not only own a construction company, but seemingly hold land deeds for many plots in Lambton, the county and even the shire. By going to several county offices we have collated the list of your holdings and it is extensive. What would one man do with such a monopoly? Aren't you swiftly becoming the hand controlling rents and real estate prices in the area?"

"A big part of it is not owned by me directly, but either by the foundation, the estate of Pemberley - especially the plots directly neighbouring the mansion - and the company, or is co-held with other entities. But I understand your concern here, obviously, and you are not the first one to express it."

The man watched him with a frown, checking the stack of papers.

"And how are you going to address it?" he asked finally.

"That depends on your specific question."

"OK. Very well. How do you explain the fact that you, as you or other entities, own so much land in and around Lambton itself that there are whole streets where you own all the buildings?"

"I bought them. Openly, on a free market. Nobody ever protested. Even when it was bought by the company or by the estate, the documents were correctly filled in to mark who is the common owner."

"We had some feedback coming from, well, several business owners that claim you've been squeezing them out and putting your own in their place."

He shook his head.

"It's the repetition of that old attempt that was, what, three years ago? People claiming I was running families out of their houses and leaving them without a place to live. We had to explain ourselves until we were blue in the face, and that's just another wave. I am giving preferential prices to some businesses, yes. Especially locally-owned, single-entity ones. I understand that we need more than one tourist equipment shop in Lambton, yes. But why do we need fifteen? I counted them at some point. They replaced shops and spots I know from my childhood. An old pharmacy-and-sweets shop, a cafe, a barber shop, a bike repair place, a modiste, a vintage model salon, and one was something most of the ladies in my family would appreciate, a large-scale, old-timey kind of haberdashery with a huge loom setup. As a kid I was quite curious to see how it worked, but luckily they didn't allow me to prod it or put my fingers inside—" he trailed off with a small smile. "I still remember pretty well what was where and I'm quite tired of having all this variety replaced by a bunch of uniform fronts decorated with hiking boots, rain jackets and backpacks."

"You seem to be rather—"

"Passionate about it, yes. I think everyone should be allowed to have a passion or two. Mine is making sure that my hometown doesn't become one of the dozens of identical places you just drive through and need a town name sign to recognise."

"Isn't that again, well, a bit autocratic? Why do you deserve to decide what shop should be placed in a certain location?"

"I don't. The town council does. There are preferential treatment plans voted in several years ago that support diversity and availability of services. If someone wants to set up yet another bank office, well, they can pay regular rates. If someone wants to set up a traditional bakery however, and there isn't one in a certain radius, then they can get a cut on city fees and rents. They are expected to pay all the employees a living wage and have a clearly outlined salary system, and to only employ people on actual proper work contracts. This way we promote full and legal employment, make it—"

"We, you say, and you claim all you do is for everyone's good, but you benefit from this yourself?"

William's thoughts ground to a stop.

In all his experience with journalists, there had not yet been a statement this accusatory.

Ever.

"Pardon me?"

"The bakery gets subsidised by the town, so the town in effect pays you to allow this business or other to stay on your land, then you force the people out of work—!"

"A sports shop employs two salespeople. Their delivery is done from a central storage. Their finances and human resources are done centrally. That means exactly two people get this work locally," William paused, trying not to glower too much. "A bakery employs two salespeople, two bakers and an assistant. If each of them earns a living wage, it's five people locally being gainfully employed, instead of two."

"That _instead_ is exactly what I mean...!" the journalist exploded suddenly. "Because of your dream of — of moving your town backwards in time, people are losing work! People are getting booted out because you decided that — that a stupid toy shop is better than something that was there before-- _what are you checking right now???_ "

William swiped through the list of recently set up businesses and narrowed the list to two toy shops. Ah-ha.

"The shop on Narrow Street is taking the place of an empty, long-unused fishing tackle shop. The one on Church Street however, is replacing a— ah, another hiking gear shop. Quite the same as the other four in a two hundred meter radius. It employed exactly two people, just like I said. One of them was not from Lambton as has since moved back home, and the other is, I suppose, your sister, guessing from the surname."

"This is private data...!"

"This is just what we took down as inventory of each and every property that was being surveyed. Your sister was employed, oh stop complaining, this is not going live, she was employed on a zero-hour contract, which means most months she had not reached the minimum wage, since she was the replacement/emergency employee. At the same time, the toy shop offers five different jobs, three of which guarantee living wage and two are above that. And your sister didn't apply for any of these."

"Everyone knows these are just a sham to get your own friends well-settled!" the man exploded. "Why would anyone apply?! You get your own people employed, you get the council to pay you heaps of money as a difference between your rents and the reduced rent, so you are pocketing the money the council pays you for renting out the property that used to belong to the town—!"

"Wait, wait, wait, what? The reduced rent— I'm sorry, where do you get your data from? Daily Mail?"

####

"It wasn't an interview, it was a bloody interrogation."

Elizabeth pulled him closer, his head coming to rest on her shoulder, while his body wrapped around her and Alex.

"You need better screening for these things," she sighed. "I won't have you tearing yourself apart to please some stupid people who crawled out from under the furniture to take a bite at a local potentate. I know that there is a sustained direction of distrust of anyone who has any kind of money, and I know where they are coming from, but accusing you of stealing money from the county because you lobbied for the change of rent rules..."

"You were eavesdropping," he murmured, annoyed at the way she tensed up because of this whole stupid—

"I was working in my room," she corrected. "And I didn't even hear him, just listening to you gave me the full picture. He thought you were pocketing the difference in rents—"

"Yeah. I wish I had made a screenshot of his face when I told him it is me who is getting less money and that the town or the county don't pay me a quid."

"We can check the recording and catch the right frame, if you wish," she suggested, shifting a bit to hold Alex closer. "Will they publish it?"

"Stacy has already sent them a strong-worded warning about not even trying to publish an edited version, and they just can't show the way I kicked his butt. I wish I could for once give an interview that wouldn't end up being a mockery or interrogation or utter nonsense about my suits, of all things."

"You look very well in your suits," she pointed out. "But I have to admit, she did sound a tiny bit obsessed with them."

"I was thankful it was over Skype, because she looked like she wanted to check the fabric out directly."

"M-hm. And only I get to check Mr Darcy out directly and palpably," she murmured, rubbing up and down his spine.

"Exactly so. So, I was thinking, until we find someone we can actually trust not to make a mess of the whole thing, I'd stay away from the press and allow the PR team deal with that. We have enough on our plates—"

"That will be good. You can still write the contents, just let them issue the statements. It will be a better use of everyone's time."

Alex woke up with a small sound and they both turned to look in his crystalline blue eyes - at nearly two years of age, still blue, true to his Darcy genes.

"Hi, baby," she stroked the soft cheek with her finger. "I wonder what's in this little head— Ow."

Alex caught her finger and pulled it into his mouth, gnawing at it energetically.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't eat Mommy, I'll get you something that you can actually sink your little teeth in. Come on, young master Darcy."

William reached for his son and stood up, making the boy laugh happily as he carried him out under his arm, like a little package.

"Don't drop him! And don't give him beetroots, he only paints with them!"

He closed the door and corrected his hold on Alex cautiously.

"What does Mommy know, hm? You love beetroots, but they _also_ make pretty good finger paints, right? I will allow you to play with some if you eat at least half of them— Who knows, maybe we'll finally get a painter in the family? What do you think, Alex? Would you want to be a painter? Or maybe a sculptor? There is some prime grade clay down by the river—"

####

"Girls, are you done skyping with Delly!? The traffic on the net is ugly now and I want to upload the next lecture today. You know, I have summer students waiting for these..."

"Just a minute, Mina is talking to aunt Lydia."

Rose rolled her eyes as she opened their workroom door and Elizabeth caught the last words, "...internship and I don't even know how to set this up!"

"Mom? Aunt Lydia needs help with _their_ home network, since Delly has—"

"Delly has found herself an internship in a news service and they want her to post — videos! About, I don't know, things. Anyway, we've been working on our mobiles until now, but we need a faster connection, or something, and I'm kind of lost—"

"OK, Lyds. You disconnect, ladies, and Mina and Rose will do something _offline_. No more computer for you two today. And don't whine! Out, gardens, or whatever. I will upload my lecture now and then, Lyddie, I'll call you and we'll talk about what you need. At least in the city, you'll have better chances to get a reasonable connection than we have out here."

"Oh, Lord, thank you, Lizzy. I'm at my wits' end with all this. Uplinks, downlinks, connections, static IPs, what does this even mean—"

"Not a problem, we'll go over all of this in an hour, OK? And then—" Elizabeth trailed off. "What _exactly_ is Adele supposed to be posting for this news service?"

"Stuff about how the country is dealing with the pandemics, how schools are doing and so on," Rose provided helpfully. "We were making a list of things she could try to find good pieces on, so she could go and film them in London, like the ZOO or the safety rules in cinemas, or what shopping looks like."

"And she has to make them how often?"

"At least one per week, but she should have three ready, for one to be approved," Lydia sighed. "That's why Mina and Rose and her were brainstorming, because we've run out of ideas."

"What about an interview?"

"An interview? OK, but with who?"

"With whom. But— You know, she could talk to Jane, what schools look like right now, what the university is doing during the summer?"

Lydia frowned, but nodded slowly.

"And I could tell her how distance learning works for people who are actually distant—" she mused. "And she could check with Charles, because they had some new safety rules introduced."

"Yeah, that's a good idea, definitely."

"And she could talk to William."

Lydia frowned, and there was a choked sound off-screen from her side.

"Del? You OK?"

"Yeah, Momma," came quickly. "I— I can do most of this, but talking to Mister Darcy—!"

"Uncle William," Elizabeth corrected sternly. "And yeah. Why not? Come on, Delly, I can set you up for an exclusive interview with William Darcy. You willing to try? It will be good for you, having a proper businessman talk about what happens in real actual business, and it will be good for him, being able to finish a thought— Well. Mutual benefit here, I suppose."

"A-ah," Delly pressed herself to Lydia's shoulder, to be visible on the camera. "I— I think? I mean, I have no idea what to ask him? Like, properly? And— how would we do this?"

"On Skype, or Zoom, or whatever," Elizabeth waved the problem away. "We'll think about this. When do you need to have the first thing ready?"

"In two weeks. And I have two pieces mostly done already, just editing them kind of, to make them more, well, easy to listen?"

"Good. Get another one, for that first three, something from that list you made, OK? And we'll think about a way to set up an interview with William in that time."

"Thank you, Aunt Lizzy!"

####

"With who?"

"With whom," she grunted. "Delly. You know? My eldest niece? She got herself a summer internship."

"Yes, I get that. But why— why would that be any better?"

"Delly has no preconceptions about you. Well, she does, you are the scary uncle that appeared out of nowhere and lives in a big house somewhere far away. Pretty sure she saw you as a real-life Archibald Craven for quite some time after that first Christmas."

"Archi— Oh, Secret Garden guy. I'm disappointed. There is no moor around Pemberley and I am _definitely_ not avoiding my responsibilities—"

"Shush. Anyway, Delly needs a kick-ass interview and you wanted to be able to give one in which the other side is not going directly for the jugular, right?"

"Delly would fit the bill, I suppose."

"Perfect. So I'm talking with Lyds about getting their network installed, and to get Delly a webcam so she could do these interviews comfortably, so that will take a few days. And Rose and Mina are dropping Delly ideas on what to ask you— Stop making that face!"

####

"For today's 'Tales after the lockdown', I am on a call with Mr William Darcy, owner of Darcy Building Technologies and the Pemberley Estate. Thank you for agreeing to this call, Mister Darcy."

"My pleasure, Miss Bennet."

"Please, tell me - since we know that many companies are struggling with finding work for their employees now, and some are simply reducing their staff - how is your company doing in this area?"

Delly's wide eyes looked straight into the camera, and he couldn't but smile. The kid had come a long way from the slightly grumpy, self-centred annoyance she had been in Mina's stories.

"I hope we are doing quite well," he started slowly. "Just like many other companies that employ many outside working crews, we had to introduce pretty strict safety measures, both for our own employees and for subcontractors—"

It was obvious that Rose, Mina _and_ Elizabeth had helped Delly to prepare the questions, and that she had no deeper motive in asking him than to have a nice, well-rounded interview to show to her boss. But it was good. It was refreshing.

And hey, if the girl decided to make this her career, he was all for it. Should him spending an hour in front of Zoom boost Delly's final internship evaluation, it was a small cost to pay.

"I know that you've been promoting the development of some more traditional kinds of trades in your area," Delly picked up a card, and read carefully, "To quote, 'I don't want Lambton to become a large, drive-through mall, full of chain stores and devoid of soul'. Would you explain where this sentiment comes from?"

That question had "Rose" written all over it.

"From the nineteenth century, some would say," he snorted, and Delly laughed. "But it really comes from the need for my town to stand out and be itself."

"Can you give me an example of the most unusual kind of enterprise that has been introduced to Lambton since the rules were voted in by the council?"

He leaned back and made a show of considering the question.

"A yarn shop is not very unusual, I suppose," he began. "But this one is connected to a whole set of workshops - carder, spinner and dyer. There have been none of these in the area for several decades now, and it seems to be quite popular, especially since they had included an option to order online—"

This was going to be a very nice interview, in fact. Delly was smiling with relief, the questions were coming without any stiffness or unnatural jumps of topics and William was feeling more and more relaxed with every minute.

Maybe some of his business contacts would consider spending an hour or so on Zoom with Miss Bennet, too. It would be to everyone's benefit, right?

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> "cui prodest?" - "for whose benefit", a question asked in an investigation (if you want to find the culprit, look who benefits)


End file.
